


Tumblr Prompts

by carpesidera



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpesidera/pseuds/carpesidera
Summary: A series of Tumblr prompts, rated Mature for language





	1. Chapter One

Sansa does not bake. Sansa does a great many things, she can sew up a dress in one afternoon or create anything from pinterest without looking at the instructions. But baking… it was not one of her talents so Jon couldn’t not laugh at the sight of his girlfriend covered in flour angrily yelling at a whisk as he walked into their pent house, the normally sterile clean kitchen was covered in a fine snow of flour.

‘San, what is going on?” She whipped around, knocking a jug off the counter. Her normally red hair was covered in even more flour and she somehow had a candle sticking out her hair tie.

‘What are you doing home?” She ran towards him, her hands pressed against his chest trying to push him out of the kitchen.

“I finished early, left Sam in charge.” 

“Well go back to work, I’m not finished yet. Come back-“She was cut off by Jon’s laughter.

“Finished ruining our brand new kitchen?” His eyebrow rose as he pushed away from her and wandered into the kitchen, carefully watching his step trying not to ruin his leather boots.

“What are you even doing Sansa? I am the cook remember, and you do the dishes.” Sansa blushed and tried to quickly grab away her laptop from the counter, the only thing that seemed to have avoided the flour attack, but Jon was quicker and before her delicate fingers could grab the screen he was already pulling it towards himself. His grey eyes scanned the screen and then the laptop fell to the floor, sending flour rising up. Ruining both his leather shoes and the laptop.

“Jon?”

“A Baby Cradle cake?” he barely croaked out, his knees buckled and he sat on the floor.

“Yeah, it was going to be a surprise.” Sansa joined him on the floor, blue eyes meeting grey and she smiled so brightly at him, tears falling creating little tracks on her porcelain skin.

“Jon, we are going to have a baby!” 

He smiled back and their lips met in a kiss, Sansa let him instantly as he pulled her as close to him as possible. Then Jon stopped abruptly, “I don’t want to hurt it!” 

This time it was Sansa time to laugh at her partner, “You loser!” and continued the kiss.

The Baby Cradle Cake quickly forgotten.


	2. Chapter Two

The battle of Hogwarts raged on as Jon collapsed on the ground. Curses and bodies fell and flew around him but nothing could awake him from the roar of his head as he looked upon her face.

Sansa’s beautiful face.

She lay on the ground, her body twisted in way that made bile rise; leaning away he threw up the pitiful meal he had eaten before the battle. As he turned back he prayed to whatever god was listening that she was not gone from his, as he pulled her already cold and tiny body to him his tears falling on her face. She had died with a half-smile on her face and her eyes, her big bright eyes stared up at him.

“Please! Sansa, please!” he muttered and screamed over and over again, rocking in the dirt. He could almost pretend as she stared up at him, that her face would be smiling and laughing at him as he panicked over nothing. Then the stone in his stomach dropped, in the middle of a battle field he realised Sansa would never laugh again and he would never   
see her smile.

As if like a ghost he rose again, laying the corpse of his love on the ground closing her eyes with a hand. 

With his wand out he took to the battle with gusto, shotting unforgivable curses at every death eater in sight till he saw the one he wanted.

Ramsey Bolton stood alone amongst a corpse of students and members of the order, his twisted smile shone in the bright shine of the green death curse. 

Jon smiled back, though his own was something more sinister and cruel that Ramsey had the smart idea of stepping away from the heart broken wizard.

“You killed her.” He said before raising his wand high and shot out the killing curse.

Ramsey was dead before he hit the ground. Jon wanted to cheer in joy but as he stood over his long time enemy and murder of his love, his shoulder was hit with a curse that tore apart his shoulder. Falling to the floor, Jon felt the blood leave his body, drip by drip. 

Closing his eyes and resting his head in the mud he let go with her name on his lips.


	3. Chapter Three

Bran sat in the Lords chair in Winterfells hall, looking out as his remaining family mingled with the Banner men of the North. Jon had his hand wrapped protectively around Sansa’s waist, holding her to him so no other man could even think of taking her away. 

Bran knew that his cousin did it to protect Sansa, to keep her from falling into someone as wicked as Ramsey but as he took it the pair. With his raven hair and confident stance and her copper locks and smile that shone brightly every time Jon spoke Bran couldn’t help but be reminded of the visions of his parents. They looked like the pair in his visions and then suddenly as he took a sip of his wine the three eyed raven’s words return to him, “History repeats itself in the most unusual ways” and for once Bran agreed with the raven.

This was history repeating itself in a very unusual way.


	4. Chapter Four

Robb slammed his fork down on the table suddenly, causing his two dinner guests to startle in alarm.

‘What the fuck Robb!” Sansa swore, throwing her napkin down with angry dignity.

Jon just stared at his best mate.

“Just fucking fuck already! I am over the staring shit you two seem to be doing!” Robb stood up and stared at the two, who had sat across from each other all evening staring into each other’s eyes and ignoring Robb completely, even if they were in Robb’s flat, and meant to be listening to Robb whine about his breakup.

“Jon you have loved Sansa since you were like five years old, and don’t deny it! And Sansa after Joffrey and fucking Ramsey, Jon is the literally only guy I will ever let you date.”

Sansa coughed, “Let me date?” with an arched eyebrow. Robb at least had the decency to mildly blush, “You know what I mean. Leave this flat now and just go and buy some fucking Ice Cream or something!” with that Robb turned on his heels and left the two together.

Jon stared back at Sansa who couldn’t stop the giggles from erupting.

Jon smiled back, “Do you think we should tell him we have been fucking for 2 months?”

“No, let him think this was his idea.”

Jon lent over the table and kissed her gently on the lips, his smile brighter than anything Sansa had ever seen.


	5. Chapter Five Part One

Arya stood at the gates of a newly buildt Winterfell, the castle stood taller then before with wooden towers and the Stark flag flying high.

She should have been back years before, the moment she had heard her sister and brother had taken the castle back. but fear was a dangerous thing and the thought of her brother and delicate sister seeing her after her tour of revenge was not something Arya could face. So she headed south for years, helping in villages that had been detroyed in the war. But after a time she knew it was time to come home.

So there she stood staring up at the wolfs head, her feet frozen in the thawing snow.

Winter was Over and she was home.

With a deep breath and a shake of her head she stepped inside. People bustled around the courtyard, black smiths hammers rang and the clash of swords were music to her ears. For just a moment she thought she had traveled back to her last days in winterfell almost 12 years before.

Then she saw them and she stumbled and lost her footing, with their backs turned she swore she was her mother and father talking with their heads together like they did so often in her memories and dreams. Her father was dressed in a dark grey with a carefully embroided white wolf on the back and her mother wore blue with the same wolf on the shoulders. 

But there was something odd, her mothers hair was cut short with tiny braids and her fathers hair had never been so long. Then they turned and Arya fell to her knees.

Sansa and Jon. Sansa looked nothing like she had when they were separated, her eyes were cold and scars scattered her porcelain face. and Jon, she had not seen him since she left Winterfell. He was smiling at Sansa with their fingers interlocked. They looked over their kingdom like a king and queen. It was almost instant that they both caught her eye. 

Sansa laughed and cried out at the same time, pulled a stunned Jon behind her.

Arya wanted to run


	6. Chapter Five Part Two

The Two Siblings and Prince sat around the fire, Sansa clasping Aryas hand tightly in her own. The fire lit up every scar and imperfection amongst all three. Sansa couldn’t hold back tears as she took in Aryas face, in her dreams she still saw the little girl of 8, with the short hair and loud attitude. But the woman sitting to her left was nothing like the hell beast she lost in Kings Landing. Her body was leaner, filed out with muscle and puberty, and her hair was longer, longer then even Sansas’ with braids and dread locks woven through out. And her face was scarred, her brow cut in two over her right eye, and a nasty healing job left Arya’s left eye permanently milky.

As if reading her mind, Arya touched the imperfection, “Lost the sight in this eye a few years back, during the Winter. But I took down the last Frey son, so it was worth it.”

Her stoic brother, No Arya remember, not brother… cousin. Sat upright in his chair, his cask of ale long forgotten.

“You killed the Freys?” he whispered.

Arya nodded and dared take a peek at her lady sister, ho was smiling widely as if she had just been presented with a brand new dress. “Good.” Her lips curled into a smile that sent shivers down Aryas back.

Sansa definitely wasn’t the lady she had always been. But Arya should have been able to tell that from her appearance. Sansa wore her hair cut short, it just grazed her shoulders and her face was lean of any cosmetics or lotions that most women favoured these days. But it was her clothes that had changed the most, at first glance Arya swore she wore a gown of black and grey but as Sansa sat back in her chair, her long legs spread out before her the realisation that her proper lady sister was wearing trousers and a man’s blouse under a long jacket almost stopped her short. Under the jacket, Aryas keen eye picked up two small daggers hidden on the belt.

“Where have you been?” Jon felt the lump in his throat return, it never truly left him. Before Winter it had been a constant reminder on how he had failed Sansa, then during the battles that followed on winters coat strings it returned for Rickon, then when the Dragon queen took Bran south to help her win the war it almost killed him the lump of worry for his family. But seeing the only person who had ever cared for him all those years ago sitting so proud and strong but so incredibly broken, the lump returned bigger and more suffocating than ever.

Arya launched into her story, on how she tried to get to him, of changing faces before she was a follower of the many faced god, then being a follower of the many faced god. She cried throughout, silent tears falling as she finally unloaded over 10 years of torment and horror.

“I landed just north of Kings Landing, but I couldn’t go back there so I went north. I was meant to come home but as I walked I hear the stories. On how the Starks had been ruined or betrayed by family after family and I don’t know what happened but I couldn’t sleep or breath till I took out every single one of them.” She looked across to both other them through hooded eyelids.

“Do you hate me?”

Sansa laughed, slapping her hand gently against Aryas, “No, if I hated you I would have to hate me. I killed my second husband with his own dogs.”

Arya looked at Jon, then looked at Sansa, and burst out laughing.

“Oh and Arya, Jon is my third husband.” Sansa mentioned before downing her cask of ale.

Arya almost fell off her chair.


	7. Chapter Six

Jon had no idea what to do, Valentine ’s Day had literally snuck up on him and he hated the holiday anyway! After he almost died from friendly fire, his week in the hospital and then Sansa resurfacing after so many years of silence he couldn’t even believe it was already February. So shopping was a must, but what do you get the girl who you have loved since you were 4 years old, who came back into your life because she heard you were hurt and who made you help over throw her ex-husband to take back her families telecommunications business? So he dashed into the closest high end shop he could find.

Sansa stood at the counter of Selfridges, her long red hair tied up high on her head and her brand new dress stood out against the tired dressed tourist shoppers. The sales assistants ran around her trying to fill her request for something smart but casual for Jon. A man she could not believe was back in her life, her literal man in shining armor. Sansa knew they were no dating, after all how can one date someone they have known since they were 2. But after the last month and a half it felt so wrong to not find a way to celebrate this holiday with him. She turned quickly away from the perfume section knowing Jon would hate anything overly smelly to collide instantly with a handsome man in black.

‘Jon? ‘Her voice was breathless, what on earth was he doing here?

‘Sansa?’ He thought the same thing.

‘Oh good you’re both together I thought you could get your partner these, since you both asked for practically the same thing!’ an overly bright sales lady appeared, carrying two matching scarf sets, from the brand Dire Wolves.

Sansa laughed, a sound Jon had decided was his favourite noise in the world, and thanked the lady. She then turned to him and held out one of the scarf sets.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day Jon.’ and kissed him on the cheek.

Jon was definitely starting to like Valentine’s Day.


	8. Chapter Seven

Sansa Stark had felt guilt; she had felt enough guilt to last her a life time.

She had felt guilt when her father died, she should have done more to save him. Let Joffrey do whatever he pleased as long as it kept him alive. She should have gone to his bed chambers and pleaded to him there, where he could have done whatever twisted thing he had pleased as long as it had kept Ned Stark from losing his head. The guilt of keeping her father alive, and his anger and disappointment she could have lived with. But the guilt of not doing enough, of being too afraid to do enough had eaten away at her for years. She was however used to it, the guilt wrapped around her like an old friend, it was there when she fell asleep and it was there when she woke up. 

She had more guilt for many other things as well, the guilt of surviving the Lannister’s when her brother and mother had not, the guilt of not looking harder for her sister, the guilt for assuming she too had died somewhere by the Lannister’s hand. 

She had the horrible guilt from Ramsey, the scars on her back and memory of every foul thing he had done. The guilt that she had failed her family, her father’s memory as she was beaten and raped in her parent’s bed. This guilt was self-harming, it made her want to throw up every day and ignore mirrors and reflections and wake in cold sweats at night. 

But this new guilt, the guilt at watching Jon Snow take his place next to the Dragon Queen is the guilt that might kill her. She had brought him from The Wall, forced him to retake Winterfell and made him King of the North.

This new guilt didn’t settle over her like a blanket or hit her like a pail of water. This new guilt sat in her stomach, gnawing day in and day out. Every time she saw Jon and the Queen with bowed heads together the guilt tripled, every time Jon turned down her invitation for a private dinner to dine with the queen, the guilt made her bed ridden, feverish and mad.

She knew she shouldn’t feel guilty after all she was not the one who discovered Jon was a Targaryen, that was Sam’s guilt. But she was the one to welcome the queen to the North and the one to encourage Jon’s involvement in the war. 

Jon found her in the God’s Wood while she contemplated her guilt and failures. Dressed in riding furs and leathers he looked so much like her Father had the fateful day they had left Winterfell. Once again the blanket of guilt wrapped around her.

“Sansa.” Jon’s voice sent shivers down her back.

“Jon.” She stared up at him.

“We leave today, you haven’t said anything to me.” Jon sat down next to her, resting his hand on her knee he drew closer to her. With his knee and hand touching her she felt his warmth, it made her want to slide closer to him on the stone on which they sat and run away at the same time.

“I wish I had never gone to The Wall, I wish we never took back Winterfell and I wish to all the Gods, old, new and who ever come after that she had never come to us.”

Jon shook his head, “Sansa, I have never regretted anything in my new life since I was brought back. Not you coming to the Wall, not retaking Winterfell and not the queen’s arrival. If she had never come here we would never have known who my mother was, and I would have never been able to tell you I love you.”

It was not the first-time Jon had said such a thing, it was however the most words Sansa had ever heard him say at one time.

“If you go with her Jon, no matter what my heart says, I will never speak to you again.” Tears fell from her big blue eyes, and it took all of Jon’s self-restraint to not kiss her, there in the Gods Wood but her words broke his heart.

“I need to fight this war Sansa, and when I come back-“

“If you come back.”

“When I come back I will marry you, amongst these trees and we will never be separated again.”

“If you go Jon, I will not marry you. I have lost everyone I ever cared for outside these walls and I won’t do it again. If you go beyond the wall, I will forget about you. And I’ll marry someone who will stay with me, I might even marry Littlefinger.” Her voice broke, and stood up and away from Jon’s grasp. In the falling snow, she looked like a ghost, pale skin, pale dress and vibrant hair.

She turned her back to him, walking towards the gates of Winterfell.

“Sansa!” he called after her jumping up to follow but his voice got carried away by the wind.

The snow fell heaver in that moment and she disappeared into the mist like a distant memory.

———–

Sansa felt the guilt return this time ten-fold, it crippled her that the moment she was safe behind her bed chamber door she collapsed. Jon Snow was leaving her, going to fight in war he should not, and she knew that when he fell, when he died again, her guilt would kill her.

Turning her back to him, making him mad, was the only way she could think of to save him. Make him turn to the dragon queen and let her love him and maybe he will survive. For everyone the Dragon Queen Loves Survives.

While everyone Sansa loves dies.


	9. Chapter Eight

Sansa and Jon’s baby shower, was just like the couple. Different.

Instead of just pastel blues and pinks, they decided to throw a dress up party, with jelly shots in the shapes of dummies, and loud music. Though Sansa herself, dressed as an oven with an artfully drawn bun on her shirt, was drinking lemonade and forcing more alcohol down Jon and her brother’s throats. Since they are after all drinking for three (Sansa, baby and themselves), which she kept saying after handing each jelly shot out.

Jon, dressed as a baker, wearing the most white Sansa had ever seen him in, was well and truly drunk. He was going around telling everyone that he was going to be a daddy, and a good daddy, not like his daddy. Sansa knew she should have stopped him talking, but the excitement on his face made her pause. He could deal with his daddy issues another day, today was all about his future. And their baby, who hopefully would grow up to have a better tolerance for alcohol than their father.

It was Robb who Sansa was most worried about, he took each Jelly Shot without complaint throwing them back as if they were nothing more than water. Girls came to him to ask to dance, the 90s-cd bouncing off the walls of their tiny flat. But as every girl came up to Robb, all dressed in skimpy clothes and over the top makeup after all Nothing made a 20 something female sluttier then a baby shower, Robb turned them all down, feigning a sore knee from an old injury or telling them that Sansa needed him in the kitchen.

“Robb Bartholomew Stark! Please stop using me as an excuse!” Sansa turned on him as he tried to find sanctuary in the kitchen.

“San, my middle name is no Bartholomew! Stop telling people it is!”

“Stop telling people, my pregnant sister needs me to help her make dinner! You can’t bloody cook!” Jon had warned Robb at the start of the evening not to anger his sister but he had ignored his brother-in-law’s warning and now Sansa stood mocking his voice in her high falsetto and stamping her feet.

“Well, I don’t want to dance. I don’t dance.” He almost stamped his own foot, sounding like a petty child.

“Robb you love to dance. At my wedding Jon literally had to drag you from the dance floor for your speech and… don’t forget about New Year’s eve last year, were you broke three toes trying to do the worm! So, what is happening here? Are you mad at Jon and me? Are you upset mums not here?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you two, you’re the only sane member of this family! And its mums lose that she couldn’t woman up and get here. I just don’t want to dance with them.”

“Who do you want to dance with? Jeyne?”

Robb laughed without humour, “No not Jeyne. I met someone, someone I think I really like.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know her so don’t worry about it.”

“Robb Bartholomew Stark-“

“My middle names not Bartholomew!”

“Tell me who it is, and then I will let you have more Jelly Shots!”

“I don’t want more Jelly shots, I’m not an Alco like you two.”

“Tell me! Or you’re not god father!”

“I am not telling you!”

Sansa smiled wickedly, the kind of smile that he use to see on her face when they were children. It was the smile that use to make Bran run to their mother and when it was mirrored on both sisters faces everyone knew to take cover.

“Well then, let’s see what your phone has to say.” Said a voice was behind, Jon shuffled into he room, his head still obviously affected by the alcohol running through his system but in his hands, was Robbs IPhone.

Robb panicked and jumped up to grab the phone, wrestling it from his mate. They fell to the kitchen floor, swearing and cursing at each other to let go. Sansa who normally would be yelling at them to stop, took out her own mobile and started to film it.

“Good example your setting for baby, Robb.” She chimed in and both men fell apart.

“And Robb don’t worry Jon already texted the girl on your phone last night, when you fell asleep. You are completely shit at keeping secrets.”

Robb turned pale, a stocking shade of white against his red curls.

“Margaery Tyrell will be here in an hour Big Brother. Now go and wash your face you look like a stunned mullet!”

Jon put his arm around his wife, as Robb stunned and shocked moved thoughtlessly towards the bathroom.

“We are the best.” He muttered to her, claiming her throat with his lips.

“I’m the best, you’re just okay.” She laughed back before moving his lips to hers.


	10. Chapter Nine

“You are so wrong!”

“No, you’re wrong!”

“I literally do not have the word to tell you how wrong you are!”

“No! because I have all the words, he is so wrong for her, for instance he is everything her mother hates! He is rich! And obnoxious! And he wouldn’t stay with her after he proposed!”

“Of course he wouldn’t, she broke his heart! And Jess, he is the worst! He makes Rory fall for him and then just leaves! He is weak! And then he writes a novel and everything ok? That’s bullshit!”

The couple sat in the living room of their shared apartment, screaming down each other’s throat much to the complete delight of their flat mate Rob.

He sat on the kitchen island, coffee mug in hand laughing at himself as they ripped shreds off each other about Gilmore Girls.

His joy was interrupted by his little sister who shuffled in, rubbing sleep from her eyes and moaning for coffee. Her delicate fingers stole his cup before he had registered her presence.

“What is it this time?” she mumbled between sips.

“Sansa thinks Rory from Gilmore girls should be with Logan and Jon, who I didn’t know had even seen the show, thinks she should be with Jess.”

Arya jumped up onto the Island next to him, “Should we tell them that they can find out in two weeks?”

“Fuck that, this is hilarious!”

The brother and sister shared the mug of coffee between them, laughing as the couple went at it, their voices getting more and more raised. Sansa was almost jumping on the couch and Jon was bent over laughing out his answer.

Arya knew all too well were these antics were leading too, and slide off the counter.

“Well some of us have school, so I’ll see you later.” She patted Robb on the knee.

“Also Robb, go get laid tonight! You watching them argue is just the saddest thing ever!” She called behind her as she disappeared into the shower.

“I do not need to get laid!” he yelled back, only to turn back to his sister and her boyfriend to see them grinding on the couch, all arguments finished.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Robb yelled at them, the two looking up at him in confusion.

“How long have you been there?” Jon asked, out of breath and more than a tad embarrassed.

Robb slide of the counter, “I seriously need to get laid.” He whispered to himself.


	11. Chapter Ten

Little Lyanna tamped her foot and screamed at her father. His big body shielding her from her one objective, to see her mother.

She tried kicking hi shin and even calling him names Uncle Tormond had taught her but her father would not move. His grey eyes shone in amusement as he dared pat her head.

“I WANT MOTHER!” she screamed again.

“Your mother is busy, you need to stay with me.” 

“I don’t wanna!”

“Ladies do not say wanna Lyanna, they say want to.” 

“I don’t WANT TO!” she screamed back, her dark curls falling in her face.

Jon couldn’t help but laugh at his four-year-old daughter, she was the spitting image of Sansa at her age, bar the dark curls but she had the fire Arya had. The passion and need to always be noticed was something aunt and niece had in common. He loved nothing more than to sit with her on days like today and give her all the attention she deserved, his beautiful summers child but in the room behind them, behind the large oak door that had been unceremoniously shut in his face earlier today his wife was giving birth.

Sansa had had a terrible pregnancy this time around, spending most of it with her head in a bucket and cursing anyone who dared even look at her sideways. While Jon played with his daughter, trying with all his might to give her all the attention he could, his ears and heart were pressed to the door listening for any sound that could cause him concern.

The only problem being, all noises to do with pregnancy gave him concern.

Lyanna grabbed Jons breeches and tugged, dragging all his attention back to her.

“Why is Mother busy? She is never busy for me!”

“Because soon you will have a baby brother or sister.”

Lyanna looked confused, “But I don’t want a baby brother or sister! I want a puppy!”

Jon couldn’t help but laugh at his daughter’s stubbornness that he knew she got from her mother. 

A scream echoed through the castle, bouncing off walls and settled down Jon’s spine. Sansa screams again and then again.

Then the scream changed, from Sansa’s high pitch scream in pain to a low scream of life.

Lyanna stood in silence listening to the new sounds that echoed from the closed door, Jon pulled the door open quickly, ignoring the Maids instance that he should not be in there. 

Wrapped up in furs laid Sansa, her red hair fanning out around her. Damp strands stuck to her forehead and she had her eyes closed clutching a bundle to her chest. Jon stood in the door way, taking in both his wife’s breathing and the bundles reassuring himself that both were alive and well.

Lyanna ran around his legs and jumped straight onto the bed, “Mumma! Father wouldn’t let me in!” Sansa looked up at her daughter, smiling weakly at the little girl, the bundle in her arms moved slightly and Lyanna got closer to have a look.

“Lyanna, meet your little brother, Rickon.” Sansa looked at her husband, who nodded his agreement in the name. 

“Ok.” Their daughter said looking between her parents, “A little brother will be okay.”


	12. Chapter Seven Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of Chapter Seven- Jon Returns

Sansa had no idea why she stood every morning looking out of the barricade behind Winterfell, the handful of Soldiers the Dragon queen had left her stood nearby. She could feel their eyes and hear the whispering behind her back. They wondered why a Lady should care of the outcome of war. And why everyday she stood, wrapped in furs looking out into the snowy storm.

She knew she had more pressing matters to attend to, Winterfell was filled with all the small folk of neighbouring villages, all seeking refuge in the newly build courtyard. She had matters of State to deal with, Lady Mormont the only one helping her learn how the castle and all its holdings worked. But for just an hour each morning, before she broke her fast, and before the duties of lady of Winterfell fell on her shoulders, she took this time. To hope, that maybe as she waited he would appear.

That Jon would walk, head held high, through the snow and rain, with his army behind him. Unharmed and smiling. That he would look up at the barricade and see her and smile.

That’s what she wished for, just one hour of each day for herself. That maybe he would appear and this new guilt that sat in her stomach would go. Once her hour was up, that would be it and she could wrap her furs closer to her body, shake away the snowflakes from hair and go back to being the stone-faced Lady of Winterfell. The She-Wolf of the north as she has been called behind her back.

The stairs back down to the court yard where traitorous and many soldiers had fallen from them each day, sliding on the icy wooden steps. Sansa remembered when the stairs had been made of stone. But they had been blasted away moons ago by Jon’s army. She made her way down them carefully, hiking her skirts up high so she could see her foot take every step. Once upon a time that thought would have shocked that she would even think of showing an ankle in the court yard, but like many old sensitives she once had, they had been beaten out of her.

“Milady!” A soldier called from above her just as her slipper touched the fresh snow. She turned to look up and saw it was one of The Dragon Queens men, Greyworm. 

He looked too tan to be in the north and her first impression of him was that he would not last the winter, he was the spitting image of a Summers Child, but he had become one of her only companions as time had gone on, in the six months Jon had been at war. 

“Yes?”

“I think you need to see this.” His words were rushed, making his foreign accent harder for her to understand but Sansa started up the staircase again, this time slipping as she rushed up, her skirts billowing around her ankles. She wanted nothing more than to rip them aside as she climbed but with only her fingers to rip it was a fruitless idea.

At the top, she understood Greyworms urgency, as if from nowhere an army had appeared below the gates. They looked worse for wear and they carried each other on shoulders, stretchers and horses. But Greyworm smiled at the Lady of Winterfell and pointed to the Banner, being held up half-heartedly. A Dire wolf.

Jon was home.

She smiled at the commander and then looked over the edge at the army. It took less than a heartbeat for her to find Jon. He stood at the front, on the back of the grey stallion she had given him so long ago. He looked healthy, dirty and covered in blood, but from the distance she was his skin looked pink and he looked to be laughing with the man riding beside him.

Then Sansa took in Jon’s companion.

Tyrion, the half-man and Lannister, also known as her Husband.

The guilt in her stomach woke up, like a lion it roared through her. How she had forgotten about the Imp, the man who had saved her from atrocities she could not believe in Kings landing, she had not seen him since the day Joffrey died, he had gone straight to the wall when he landed back into Westeros, opting to take on the white walkers quickly with his dragon.

But of course, he would return to Winterfell, it felt like a moment from her past, the King returning to Winterfell with the Imp by his side, she almost felt like a one and ten-year-old again waiting 

Waiting for something to happen to her.

With a nod to Greyworm and a sharp turn on her heels she left the barricade once more. Nodding to her men and shouting orders to open the gate, she would welcome the soldiers back into Winterfell herself. It was the right thing to do, no matter how much her heart hurt at the idea of seeing both Tyrion and Jon again.

 ---

 The gates opened before her and the blast of cool breeze hit fast ending her furs to rustle around her and the last bits of hair still woven together apart. She should have waited in the throne room, made herself acceptable to meet with her husband and King but both the Imps and Jons eyes found her too quickly to run away.

 Jon smiled broadly, and jumped from his horse with no hesitation. In less than a heartbeat he was in front of her, Sansa took him in as she curtsied low. He had another scar over his eye and his hair had been shorn close on one side exposing a long wound sown shut. 

As she rose Jon smiled wider, crinkling his eyes.

"You’re unwed?" His voice sent her body into overdrive and all ideas of formality went out of her mind. She launched herself at him, arms over his shoulder pulling him into a rib crushing embrace. Tears feel from both of them as they clung tightly to one another.

 “I didn’t marry Littlefinger you mean.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked into his grey eyes. She could have fallen into them, stayed staring for days on end. The guilt that she wore like armour felt like it slipped away as she took him in.

Their moment was interrupted however by a cough and shuffling of feet. They both looked down and saw the Dwarf has also dismounted from his steed and that the entire army was watching their every move.

Sansa bowed low, like she had once on her first wedding day.

“My Lord Husband.” She blushed after being caught acting like a unbleed lady.

Tyrion lifted her head up and looked her in the eyes, the intensity there was nothing like Jons. Instead of lust or passion his eyes were filled with kindness and friendship.

“How about you and I get an annulment.” He smiled as Sansa broke into a grin. Decorum once again going out the window as she hugged him tightly.

“Thank you My Lord.”


	13. Chapter Eleven

“They call her a witch.” Sam’s voice broke Jons concentration, the map in front of him taunting him with its strange markings and unknown waters.

“What?” his voice was rough but it was nothing his first mate Sam wasn’t use to, the further from Winterfell they got the more rough and angry the Captain of the Wall got.

“Lady Ramsey, they say she is a witch who killed her own husband. It’s why they don’t trust her and why they won’t trust you while you’re with her.”

Sam had spent the better part of 3 days trying to figure out why his men were ignoring the captain’s orders, talking back and asking not so subtle questions about a vote.

Then the kitchen boy told him, Olly, a small lad Jon had brought on at the previous port that was torn between idolizing the young Captain, and wanting to be one of the crew with the rest of the lads.

He came to him clutching the tiny bandana he normally wore on his head. And through whispers and clenched teeth the truth emerged. Sansa Stark-Ramsey, the Captains mistress, was the problem. It wasn’t the fact the Captain had a mistress half the men on the ship had whores or mistresses. But it was the fact that it was Sansa Stark-Ramsey, Once she had been a lady in waiting to the Queen herself till she had been married off to the Lord Ramsey.

Ramsey was a brut; every pirate on the seven seas knew that. But he was necessary for trading in the north and his father had an ear to the king. He was a safe bet, a brutal murdering psychotic bet but safe all the same. He had been found dead three months into his marriage, tied to his bed with his manhood mauled upon by his dogs. Sansa had played the grieving woman, crying at the right time, wearing black and mourning in public. But from that morning on she was never far from the dogs, who had chewed off her husband’s favourite part, and she had taken control of the north, she was the one the pirates went to when they wished to trade north. Lady Sansa went from being the dutiful wife to being the most feared woman in the pirate world. If you displeased the Lady of the North you died, or lost your hand to her dogs.

Captain Jon had taken to seeing her privately, and as Olly kept rambling, Sam realised that the Captains private life wasn’t private; he had been seen leaving her bed chambers in the early morning.

“Why do they think I am with her?” Jon sounded tired; he sat back in his chair rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“You were seen.”

“Ok, what would you like me to do Sam?” Jon for all his flaws always took Sam’s advice.

“Break it off with her if you can. Or make it public if you can’t, tell the boys you are sleeping with her for better trade deals.”

“I can’t do either of that.”

“Why not?” Sam held himself to a large glass of port, knowing the answer to his question will make him grab the whole bottle.

“Because I love her.”

“Well then we are fucked Captain, truly fucking fucked.”

“Yes Sam, I do say we are.”


	14. Chapter Twelve

“Try it!” 

Sansa’s voice rose higher and higher as her boyfriend sat in silence, mouth shut in defiance. His long black curls shaking as he attempted to not laugh.

“It won’t hurt you!” she egged him on; the sushi on the end of her chopsticks shaking as she too almost lost control of the giggles she tried to control. 

The two sat in the corner of a crowded sushi bar. It was date night and like almost all date nights Sansa had picked the restaurant in her attempt to broaden her boyfriend’s limited pallet. Jon for his credit would almost always crack and eat whatever Sansa put in front of him. 

However it was at uncooked fish where he drew the line.

“No.” he croaked out, eyes watering from holding in his laughter. One of his favourite things was watching Sansa’s eyes shine with determination whenever she thought he had to try something new. From trying vegan mushroom burgers (as disgusting as they sounded) to uncooked fish rolled in seaweed.

“JON!” she whined, “You’re making a scene, just eat the bloody roll!” with a shake of her head she dropped the chopsticks and buried her head in her hands, trying to hide her own giggles from her always frustrating boyfriend.  
The two stared at eat other, the sushi rolls long forgotten. Grey eyes taking in blue, and any thought of dinner was gone as Sansa broke into a fit of giggles and Jon breathed deeply. Her giggles would always be his favourite sound.

“Do you want to get out of here? Maybe skip the movie too?” his voice was so husky Sansa knew exactly what he meant by skipping dinner.

She smiled back, her eyes twinkling with glee.

“Of course, but first at least eat the avocado, you may need some sustenance.” She winked and Jon was a goner. With the fork he quickly heaped on the green paste. If it pleased Sansa and got them out of the restaurant he would eat the avocado.

It wasn’t till the ‘avocado’ touched the back of his throat did he realise he had been played.

It burnt, and stung. Tears fell freely from his grey eyes, and he gasped for water. Sansa to her credit handed over her water quickly, while filming the whole thing on her phone.

“You…will…pay…for…this…Stark!” He breathed out as Sansa jumped from her seat throwing notes down as she went.

“Catch me first Snow.” She sung as she legged it for the door, her laughter bouncing off the walls.


End file.
